Shelter
by Marvar
Summary: Two people. One night. No power. Can two people fall for each other as they seek shelter? Rated M because Edward has a British accent and wears suspenders. My birthday present for Cosmogirl7481.
1. Chapter 1

.

.

.

.

.

"Hey...I knew you'd still be here, you workaholic," my friend Rose says as she walks into my office.

"Hey." I stop my work and turn around to face my best friend. I was grading papers that I put off to the last minute. Well, it's actually the last hour before campus closes for Thanksgiving. She takes a seat on my tiny couch after she moves a stack of exam papers that I've actually finished reading.

"The weather report says the storm will be coming in tonight, Bella. Are you sure you don't want to ride with me? I've got Emmett's Hummer. We can come get your old junker tomorrow. Or if you're lucky it will be destroyed by the heavy rains and gale force winds and you can get a new one."

"Thanks, Rose. But my truck is inside the parking structure. If I leave it here, I won't be able to get it out until security opens it up next week. And stop hating on the truck. My dad gave me that."

"Yeah, he gave it to you so he could get a new one that works. And I'm sure your wannabe boyfriend, security officer Mike, would open the gate for you," she teases. "He's got keys to everything..." she pauses and sighs dramatically, "just not to your heart."

I roll my eyes hard. "Right. He keeps the magic keys in his pocket next to his tiny dick."

"That's mean, Bella."

"Trust me, he deserves it," I retort.

"No, I mean it's mean that you won't tell me the story of 'Bella and the Little Dick.' "

"You make it sound like a fairy tale. Only with a smidgen of cock. And it will take many, many drinks to make me relive that story. " And possibly some nipple torture. Though that might be hot coming from Rose.

Geez, have I been sans man so long that my best chance for sexual contact is a titty-twister from my hetero-girl-bestie? How did this become my life?

"Fairy tales have a happy ending...and the girl and boy live happily ever after. Your story is more like a mystery. Like - how in the fuck is it possible that you're still single?"

"You know my work schedule."

"I know that you work way too hard to publish all those articles and teach too many classes."

"It will pay off," I reply, defiantly. "I'm going to be the youngest chair ever in the history department."

"Yeah...but at what cost? I know you're going home to be alone and then tomorrow you'll spend a few hours in the diner having turkey with your dad and drive home to your cat."

"That's not weird."

"Did you buy the turkey costume for your cat?" she asks pointedly.

I look at everything in the office except her. "Okay. So that's a little weird," I admit. Begrudgingly. "But it is so cute. And Elizabeth the First loves it."

"When's the last time someone petted your kitty? Besides yourself?"

I raise my eyebrow as I stare at her.

"Yes, that is exactly what I mean. Like I give a shit about touching your mangy animal. I was trying not to be crass," Rose says with a sigh. "You need some action, Bella, before your pussy closes up from non-use."

"Excellent job not being crass," I snark.

"Seriously. Your vadge will be like the nose piercing I got freshman year...but hopefully without the scabbing and pus."

"Annnd I spoke too soon."

"Come on, Bella. You know I'm right."

"About the pus?"

She rolls her eyes and clicks her tongue at me in disapproval. "Look, I almost forgot my main reason for coming over here - Emmett set you up on a double date with us and his new friend. It's that new professor from Oxford."

I gasp. Loudly. And Rose smells my fear at the mention of the man that I've been drooling over since he joined the English department this semester as a Shakespeare expert.

"Holy shit. You know who I'm talking about. "

Fuck yes, I do. I might be developing carpal tunnel from all the self-loving I do while fantasizing about him. But I don't tell her that. It might be an overshare. Okay, not for Rose. She'd love that info.

"I - uh..." Oh how he'd be thrilled at my command of the English language right now.

"He's super gorgeous and has the cutest English accent," she adds, staring at me and hoping I'll blurt out something she can use against me. "And the suit he was wearing...he had on suspenders," she sings, knowingly.

Oh god, suspenders. I feel lightheaded. When I talked to him in the cafeteria last week he was wearing suspenders. I'm pretty sure that's why a gnat flew into my mouth. I barely noticed it. It was probably more nutritious than my lunch.

"And he had on a bow tie."

I swoon like I'm a teen again. Or more like a thirty year-old woman who might've had a tiny orgasm at the thought of running my hands through Professor Cullen's reddish-brown hair as he reads a sonnet into my heaving bosom.

"He asked about you," she adds when my breathing regulates. "I told him you shared interest in the same time period of British history. And British stuff made you horny."

And I begin flailing. Rose laughs. "Okay, I said that you were quite the anglophile."

I breathe a sigh of relief - before I start fanning myself. I might pass out.

"And I totally scoped out his crotch, Bell..." Well, who hasn't? I'd camp out between his muscled thighs. "And there's no way that's a tiny cock. If it is - it's like eight of them in there. Or a sock. One of those extra thick ski ones-"

"Classy, Rose. Did you get a pic or video of it?" I ask, sarcastically. Well, mostly sarcastically. Because I wouldn't exactly delete that if she had it. You know, for research or whatever. Especially if he has an octocock. That I need to see.

"Geez, no, Bella." She looks offended.

"Sorry."

"Me, too. Stupid Emmett kept blocking my phone. I think he knew what I was trying to do."

We both laugh.

"But seriously, I know he was interested. You should totally do him."

"Let me put that down for tonight. I'll pencil it in...Do...Edward...Cullen. There. It's lucky I shaved my legs this morning and wore matching underwear. Now I have nothing holding me back."

"Non-matching underwear is no big deal. You could just remove it and go commando. Never met a guy who was turned off by that."

"Great. I'll make a note of that too. Soon I'll have a dating manifesto. Maybe I can publish it."

"Awesome. That's one book of yours I'd actually read. That one you wrote about the Tudors or whatever was a total snooze fest. It was nothing like the HBO series with the hot guy. But I use it when I have insomnia, though. So that's a win."

"Thanks for the ego boost. I'll be sure to remember to yawn extra loud when you're publishing that math stuff you like."

"Touché. Well, if you're not coming with me, I want to get home before the rain starts. You need to get out of here too."

"I'm almost done."

"There's only forty-five minutes left before they close campus. It already looks deserted. Your little friend had let me into the math building to get my laptop that I forgot. I told him that you were probably still here and not lock up without making sure you were out of the building."

"Thanks, Rose. I'm heading out soon. Have a good holiday."

"Bye, Bell. Drive home safely," she calls as she walks out.

"Bye."

I go back to my papers, grading as quickly as I can. Only a few...okay many to go. I love Rose, but that little talk set me back. Oh who am I kidding? I'll have to take this stuff home.

"I might as well leave now," I mutter to myself. "Before it gets too late and Mike kicks me out."

I gather my things to leave and then I hear a voice behind me say, "I can't let you walk out of here."

.

.

.

.

.

A/N: So this is for my bestie. I love you, Cosmo.

More tomorrow. This will be short and completed this week.

Many thanks to Twilover76 for prereading. All mistakes are my own, since Cosmo can't beta her present.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: All Britishisms used are based upon my reading of the Harry Potter series and HP fanfiction. No actual research was involved. Thanks to one reviewer who let me know suspenders have a different meaning in England. **

**Happy Birthday, Cosmogirl!**

.

.

.

.

.

I freeze in place. I might be hallucinating. That's why Professor Banner went on sabbatical last year. He started hearing voices at work. The department was tolerant until he thought that the department secretary was Cleopatra and he was Marc Antony. I wasn't there, but I heard it was quite a sight.

"Professor Swan? Did I startle you?"

That voice sounded real. Nope, not hallucinating. Dreaming maybe. Except when he talks to me in my dreams I'm usually naked. And he's in a period costume with a bulge in his breeches that isn't a codpiece.

Don't ask why that makes me hot. I know it's weird.

"Professor?"

Oh, right. That man with an insanely attractive voice is speaking to me. And I'm ignoring him. I decide to turn around because looking at him is just as good as listening to him. And, oh god, it's better. Under his damp overcoat that he's removing is a dress shirt, tie, slim trousers, and a button up vest. His hair glistens with water droplets, falling softly down onto his neck and shoulders. I want to splash the droplets on my too hot face to cool it off. Or lick them off his neck. Both things are probably wrong.

Annnd I still haven't said anything.

"Um, hello, er, Professor Cullen. What brings you to the history department?" There. That was coherent. Mostly.

"Well, as I said when I interrupted you, I can't let you go."

"Okay. I'll let you keep me," I blurt out. I might be hypnotized by his full, pink lips.

He laughs. "Fantastic offer."

I blush wildly. "Here. I mean I'll stay here. I'm easily persuaded, as you see."

"Excellent." He grins and leans in closer like he's sharing a secret. "I'll store that bit for later." Ahhh...his breath is minty fresh and he has lovely white teeth. I breathe in deeply, enjoying the freshness and rejoicing in the fact that I just popped in a mint before I decided to leave. I don't think he would've appreciated the scent of coffee and my onion bagel. I know I didn't. I suffered through an hour of that dragon breath because I was too caught up in trying to finish my grading.

"So, why are you keeping me here _not_ against my will?" I attempt to keep this conversation going before he disappears like in most of my dreams.

"Right. I'm here for a reason other than to enjoy your company."

I giggle. It's hopeless. One gorgeous man gets near me and I'm twelve years old again. No, wait, make that eighteen. If I'm going to be younger, I want to be able to legally have sex.

He continues, "I was just in the parking structure and the exit gate is locked. I tried to go back to my office, but this building is the only one open. And I remembered that this was your department. So, I'm quite chuffed to find you, even though I believe we'll be stuck here for a few hours. Do you know whom we would call?"

"Stupid Mike. He must've locked it. How could he have missed our cars?"

"Mike?" he asks.

"Head of campus security."

"Oh, that bloke with the black uniform who is always riding that cart around? I thought he was the rubbish collector."

I nod. "Yes. I can see why you'd think he was rubbish. I'll call his office. Make yourself comfortable." I walk over to my desk and look at the directory to find Mike's extension. It rings and rings. Then I call the security extension. Still nothing. Motherfucker.

"You have an adorable pussy," he says. I drop the phone and look at him, wide-eyed.

"Blast...I mean kitty." He points to my picture of Elizabeth. "I keep making a cock up of that one. It's very hard for me to stop because I dearly love playing with kitties. My neighbor had a right fit when I told her I wanted to pet her furry one. At least you didn't slap me." We both laugh, but I wonder who is this neighbor of his? I'd instantly drop trou if he asked to see my pussy and pet it.

"So...any luck?" he nods toward the phone.

"I didn't get any answer, Professor Cullen."

"Edward, please. We can be less formal now that I've seen your, er, kitty." He winks. Sweet Jesus.

"Um, call me Bella."

"So, Bella, what next?"

"I'm hoping he's riding around checking buildings. Do you want to walk around campus to see if we can find him?"

"We can try. It was raining rather hard when I walked over here though. I believe there's a major storm coming in."

"Maybe we can find him before it starts. Let me get my coat."

I grab my trench and Edward helps me put it on like the gentleman he is. He offers me his arm (who does that?), and we head down in the elevator.

"So are you late for something? Like a date?" I ask. "You look very..." _hot, sexy, edible, _"nice tonight."

"Thank you, but no. I'm not currently seeing anyone. I do hope that I'll have a date soon. My friend Emmett said he'd convince this very fit history professor I have my eye on to take pity upon me and show me around the city," he says, pointedly.

I blush, hotly, but try to flirt as best I can. He is giving me a free pass. "Maybe I will if this very fit English professor I have my eye on will wear his suspenders."

He looks at me, confused, then laughs. "Braces. You fancy my braces. I was thinking you wanted me to wear ladies' stockings and garters. That is considered suspenders in Britain. That would be a sight. I have quite hairy legs. Mum teases me about that and my huge feet."

I laugh too. Though the thought of his huge feet and manly, hairy legs is making me sweat. "And I was thinking about you wearing orthodontia in your mouth."

"Right. I don't want _that _in my mouth," he says as the elevator dings and we exit. I don't mention what I'd like to put in his mouth, but damn, I want too. But I don't want to pop this little fantasy bubble of wonderful I have going on right now. This is almost like one of those Lifetime romance movies that I watch with Elizabeth and a pint of Ben and Jerry's. Only my movie would have to be on Skinemax because we'd totally fuck in the elevator.

We walk towards the entrance, but before we even get there, we know we're not going to walk around campus. We can hear the storm winds, and see the flashes of lightning. I nearly jump at a booming thunderclap that rattles the windows.

"That was very close after the lightning. That means it's nearby. It's too dangerous to go out," Edward says. "Let's just go back up to your office. It's warm there and we can talk until someone comes to open up."

"Okay. I'll call Rose and let her know where I am. Maybe she knows someone with a key."

"Sounds like a plan."

We go back up to my office. I can't help sneaking glances at him. I know he'd be delicious. Forget Ben and Jerry, I'd eat him.

I call Rose when I reach my desk. "Rose? Where are you right now?"

"Bella," I hear her say through static. "Wha-"

For fuck's sake. How does a little rain mess up a cellular connection? Isn't that crap transmitted by satellite?

"Listen, I am stuck here at work. The gate is locked. No one is here to let us out."

"What?" she asks. "You...aking...up."

"I'm here with Edward," I shout. Like that will help. I should get two cups and string.

"Edwa...grea...get some of th...gian...ick. Can't hear...bye."

"Damn it. I don't think she understood anything except that you were with me."

"Mobile service is bollocksed, then, right?"

"Yeah. Mine is. Try yours. Maybe you'll have more luck. I'll try the office phone."

I sigh when I hear nothing on the line. "No dial tone. The storm can't be that bad, right?"

And then the lights go out.

.

.

.

.

.

**A/N: Thanks for returning for Cosmo's bday gift. I was working on this, so sorry about not making any review replies. I appreciate every word and all the birthday wishes for Cosmo. **

**Thanks to Twilover76 for prereading. All mistakes are my own. **


	3. Chapter 3

.

.

.

.

"Bugger."

"Crap." I should learn better swears. His sound classier.

"I imagine that the lights are out because of the storm and not because the uni didn't pay the light bill," he says.

"I think the odds of getting rescued soon just became a long shot." I sigh.

"Right. But I don't think it's so bad."

"Not bad?" I ask, annoyance seeping into my voice.

"We could be stuck with rubbish Mike," he jokes.

I laugh. "That would be horrible. And he is rubbish at his job." My eyes adjust to the darkness, and I see he's smiling. And looking at me.

"So let's make the best of it, yeah?" he says, shrugging off his coat and walking towards me.

"How do you suppose we do that?" I ask, hoping he'll say, "By fucking wildly on your desk then some quiet cuddling." But I know that's not happening. If I were sluttier, I would tell him what I want while pulling off my panties and then swinging them around my finger or something else that hot girls in bad romance novels do. But, alas, I am unschooled in the arts of seduction, so I settle for licking my lips and removing my coat.

And...score. He licks his, too. Like he needed them to look softer and more bitable.

He runs his hand through his hair and says, "Well, as a boy scout I learned the three things we need to survive in a disaster situation: food, water, and shelter."

Right. I was thinking about wine, sex, and a fuzzy blanket. That probably didn't come up at the scout meetings.

"And we have shelter, though with the heat off now, it may get quite cold...but we can figure out a way to keep warm." He takes my hand, rubbing between his, blowing gently.

_Gee, Edward, I think my pussy's cold..._

"So...the water system should be fine. That leaves food?"

Before I offer to feed him my nipples, I remember that earlier in the day Professor Volturi had a gift basket delivered. I'm sure he won't mind if we take a few items. I mean, it is a matter of life and death. Almost. "I think I have that covered," I say before I take off in search of sustenance.

I return with the gift basket, and my office is bathed in soft light. Edward apparently has located some candles. I drop my prize on the desk and rip open the cellophane wrapping.

"There's some good stuff in here. Ooh...truffles." I plop one into my mouth. "Oh god, that's so goood."

"I need a taste of that," he replies, staring. I hope he means from my tongue. But I'd be willing to let him choose the spot.

"So this isn't really as bad as I thought," I say, sitting down on my couch with another chocolate. I clear off a spot for Edward who is rifling through the basket.

"It's bloody fantastic. There's champagne, too," Edward says as he pops the cork expertly. "Glasses?"

I grab some cups from the shelf. I hand him my Shakespeare mug. He pours champagne into my glass then his. He looks at the side and says, "How apropos." He reads aloud the quote from Macbeth, "When shall we three meet again? In thunder, lightning, or in rain?"

I smile. "That is fitting. Except we don't have a third person."

"I prefer that it is just we two." He sits down next to me, close enough that our legs are touching. I'm so happy I shaved. I would've spiked him with my porcupine stubble, and that would kill the mood.

"Two is good." I'm sure he has everything I need. Judging by the way he fills out his pants, I'm feeling confident in that assessment.

"Three is, you know..." he says, his voice trailing off.

"Kinky," I blurt out.

He laughs. "I was going to say 'a crowd,' but kinky can be fun."

"Two can also be fun."

He holds up his cup to touch mine. "To two." We both drink, keeping our eyes focused on the other. "You know, this is quite romantic. Maybe we should call this our first date - you know, advance our timeline," he says, taking a sip of the champagne. I watch the process of his drinking- his Adam's apple bobbling as he swallows, the peek of tongue. It's the sexiest thing I've ever seen - which thrills and depresses me at the same time, because...it's only drinking.

But it's Edward drinking. With me. In a dark, private room. And I've wanted him for months. So...at what point is it appropriate for me to jump him and claim him as mine?

"It's already better than every other date I've had," I say quietly. Again, this is sad but true. The last date I went on, my date's mother showed up at the restaurant and took pictures to put in her family's Christmas newsletter. Don't ask. I'm still contemplating legal action.

He grins, tilting his head shyly. Gawd, he's adorable. "I'm glad. And saddened at the same time. Who are these tossers you're seeing in your spare time?" He loosens his tie. I want to lick the strip of skin that rests above his collar.

"Not important." I drink some more champagne. It's making me feel brave. Or horny. Either works in this situation.

"Quite right. I'd like you to focus on me."

I laugh. "I'd say I'm entirely too focused on you," I admit.

"Excellent. Now we're even."

I blink away my surprised look and replace it with one of pleasure.

"I fancy America. Blokes get locked up with beautiful women in the dark on holidays."

"You should see what we do on your birthday," I tease.

"June twentieth," he blurts out. "I'm reserving the date. It's your duty as an American to entertain me."

I giggle and mock salute. "I take my duty seriously."

He quirks up an eyebrow. "Then can you please help me out right now? I'm feeling a bit hungry. Maybe you can share those chocolates." He sits back on the couch. I unwrap a truffle and hand him one. He motions for me to bite it and when I do he says, "I said share..." he leans in and gently pulls my bottom lip between his. I make a strange sound and reach for him. I clutch at his neck as he pulls me closer, stroking his tongue against mine. Languid and lush, the flavors of champagne and chocolate mix with the taste of him.

"Now to warm you up... I hear body heat is best." I move to straddle him, and he pulls me down on his lap. I rock against his erection as we kiss. Somehow my skirt gets hiked up around my waist and his hands are on my ass (probably from all the rocking and grabbing). It's better than the last time I had actual penetration. Again, this is sad. If I wasn't so euphoric from this amazing dry hump, I'd be depressed. His hands move under my sweater, and I reach up and pull it over my head. I have no idea how I've became so bold, but I hope it's a new superpower that I've recently acquired.

"You're gorgeous," he says, his fingers tracing the lace cups of my bra.

"You're amazing." I grind down on his erection as he touches me. I catch his thumb in my mouth and suck.

"Bloody hell," he curses. "I'm going to go off in my pants if you keep moving like that."

"Edward...I was thinking that we should advance this to our third date."

"Whatever you say..." he kisses down the side of my neck. I arch back to give him more room. Also, my boobs are closer to his mouth.

"Because in America, on the third date we totally shag."

"I love America," he says as he slides down my panties.

.

.

.

.

.

**A/N: Annnddd...cockblocked. It's probably called a cockblock in England, too. **

**Happy Birthday, Cosmogirl. Because she's awesome and I'm slow, her birthdays lasts for days and days. **

**The last chapter (and our characters) should be coming soon.**

**Thanks To Twilover 76 and Raina for prereading. **


	4. Chapter 4

_**This is all for Cosmogirl7481. **_

.

.

.

.

.

"Bugger. Your knickers are in a twist," he says anxiously.

"What?" I'm definitely not giving off the upset vibe right now. Unless moaning and shameless grinding means something different in England.

"Your panties are literally tangled with your shoe strap."

"Oh." I'm such a conversationalist. That must be what he sees in me. But in my defense, I'm mesmerized by the way he says "literally." And I usually hate when people say that word because they always misuse it. Like, "That makes me literally insane" even though the person isn't in a straight jacket. But he says it so Britishy. I'd probably enjoy listening to him reading tax codes.

He gives my panties a tug, and I step out of said knickers as gracefully as is possible while straddling him. I probably shouldn't because I'm going to ruin his suit with my enthusiastic reaction (i.e. wet pussy) to his hotness. I probably look like a slutty bull rider with all the bucking and writhing. He pulls one nipple out of my bra and into his mouth as his hands cup my now bare ass.

What a muti-tasker. I might be in love. With his mouth. And then suddenly my new love is gone. He lets go of my bottom too, and unhooks my bra. He tosses it behind me, and goes right back to my breasts, and I mean both because he's got them smushed together so he can suck both at once. It must be a British porn thing.

Whatever this move is, it's making me overwhelmingly horny. Well, that and him.

"Please touch me, Edward," I say. No, I beg. I'm at the point where I'm shameless. I don't care that this isn't even an official date, that we've only spoken a handful of times, or that this is completely out of character.

He kneads my ass in response.

"No...not there...please."

He reaches between my legs. I instantly spread like the slut I never was but always wanted to be. His touch is gentle, but I need more.

"Inside," I plead.

"You feel bloody perfect," he says, sliding two fingers deep. He doesn't hesitate. I'm pretty sure all the begging let him know I was ready. He works me with the perfect amount of depth and speed; I'm riding his hand like it's Sea Biscuit.

"You're perfect. It's like your fingers vibrate," I gasp out. His long, talented fingers are making me come with lightning speed. He may be bionic.

He laughs and presses a spot inside me that my gyno has never even been near, which makes me scream out when I come for like an hour. It's probably only a few seconds, but it's so good that it feels like I've orgasmed all week long. "That's it," he says, stroking me, prolonging my euphoria. His bionic arm must be programmed to stun.

I'm panting and babbling, and I can't feel my legs.

And I can't locate a fuck to give.

When I reach a state of coherence, I realize that I'm almost naked and have had a screaming orgasm while draped across a fully-clothed sex bionic British machine. Who is now wearing my boobs as a hat as I catch my breath leaning over his head.

"You all right, there, luv? I was worried there for a second or two." He pulls me down off his head so I'm resting against his chest.

"You thought you killed me with all the coming?"

He laughs. "I don't think that anyone's ever said anything that was so complimentary and yet, disturbing."

"Thank you," I say quietly. "It's been...a while."

"That's an absolute travesty. You make such lovely sounds." He lightly touches between my thighs. "I think you're ready for another go, yeah?"

"Oh god. I don't know if I can take it," I say as he strokes me. I'm still trembling from earlier.

"You can take it. Show me," he says softly in my ear. His lips drift down to my neck, as he pulls my hand down to the bulge in his pants.

"Damn. That's better than average."

"I hope so. I try to excel in all things. My mum says I'm an over-achiever." He tilts his hips, pushing his hardness against my hand.

"Excellent." I'm referring to his cock, mostly. Not his words.

"Though I'm rubbish at cooking," he continues. "This is so much better than the boring dinner I had planned to make." He then makes a really amazing sound when I reach into his pants and pull out his cock, which is also amazing. I wish I could record this whole encounter for posterity. Or for me, when all this is over. "I am so thankful that I came back to your building tonight. And thankful that you are here with me."

"I'm thankful for that too," I say as I slide down off his lap and slip him into my mouth.

"Bugger...ahhh...I'm most thankful for your tongue," he says, gasping. "That's bloody good, but I need to shag you before I pop off. Get up here."

So I grab ahold of his tie and start pulling off the rest of his clothes. And as much as I love his clothes, he looks so much better out of them.

I thought British guys were supposed to be scrawny and soft, but he's lean and muscled, and definitely hard.

So, so hard.

And I can take it. Repeatedly. Propped on the arm of my tiny couch (which will never be the same) with my legs wrapped around his tightly-muscled ass...Bouncing on top of his corded thighs while holding onto his hair. Screaming out his name as I come again.

And I'm still taking it when I hear:

"Bella...are you in here? I was worried when you didn't call me to...holy shit."

Edward curses too, mid-stroke.

"Er, Mike...you want to turn around and let us...well-" I say, sighing. I want to say "finish" because I was so close. Mike Newton ruins everything. But thank god we had changed positions or Mike would've really gotten an eyeful of me instead of Edward's glorious ass.

I whimper when he pulls out of me. Not even the ridiculous interruption made him soft.

We dress as Mike Newton rambles. "I, um, thought you'd be alone, but when you didn't call me, I had to check on you, Bella."

"We did call you, Mike. You obviously had left your office when you locked us in the parking structure," I say, angrily.

"I left my cell phone number on your windshield. I wanted you to call."

"Oh my god! You did this on purpose." I start laughing. Edward doesn't look amused.

"You're not going to report me, are you?" he says worriedly. "I was just trying to get a date...you always turn me down. I thought if you needed me..." He starts to turn around.

"Don't you dare, Newton," Edward says. "You've seen enough of my girlfriend."

I look at Edward. He smiles and grabs my hand. I squeeze it in return.

"I'm not going to turn you in, Mike. You can turn around now."

He turns and sighs in relief. "Thanks, Bella. I guess I can see that you're taken – I mean he's very athletic."

I stifle a giggle. He did get an eyeful. I bet Edward's back looked as good as his ass. "I actually owe you many thanks. It's been the best night of my life."

Edward says, "Mine, too. So thanks, mate." He wraps his arms around my waist and kisses my neck. He's obviously making a claim on me for Mike's sake. I guess Mike catching us fucking wasn't enough of a spectacle.

Mike scowls and says, "Happy Thanksgiving. I'll be waiting in the structure for you. Try to hurry."

"We're leaving now. We have things we need to finish at my place," Edward says with his hands on my hips and his head resting on top of mine.

Mike looks disgusted.

I almost feel bad. But not quite. He did lock me in here on purpose.

But then again, who knows how long it would've taken to be with Edward? And it is almost Thanksgiving.

"Mike...I hear that Angela Weber in Admissions thinks you're cute. She's always asking about you."

"Really? Thanks, Bella." He turns and walks out.

Edward and I gather our things to go.

"That was rather nice of you. I wanted to tell him to sod off."

"I think he did us a favor." I turn and look at him. He hugs me to him.

"Actually, you're right. I should kiss the bloke. Maybe he lock us inside my flat for winter hols."

"Edward…he won't have to lock us up to keep me near you."

.

.

.

.

A/N: So that's the end of Suspenderward. You can all be assured that he did get to finish what he started. Many times. I think they're still shagging.

I give thanks to Twilover76 for prereading. She drops everything to read whatever I send her.

All mistakes are mine.


End file.
